The Legend of Revan, Episode I: Enter the Shadow
by FreeHandMan06
Summary: Adventure of Revan from his training at the Jedi Enclave up to his apprenticeship under Master Dorak and his first encounter with the Sith. Read & Review. Chapter 7 up now!
1. Arrogance

George Lucas owns all this stuff. I just play in his universe.

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**_The Legend of Revan_**

**Episode I: Enter the Shadow**

_Chapter 1_

"Yield." The young Jedi stood above his opponent, weapon at his throat. The other had little choice, and dropped his weapon. The victor was no more than 13 years of age, compared to his victim, who was one of the oldest of the students at 15. Smiling, the winner removed his foot from the padawan's chest, allowing him to stand. The human combatants then turned to their assessors, the Jedi in charge of the Enclave.

"Brassk," Master Vandar spoke, "Your lack of individual training showed. A Jedi must be dedicated to his craft every day of his life, not just on the day of the test."

"Brassk, you lost because you could not adapt to the changes in the battle," added Master Meelo, "You have to be more aware of your surroundings."

"Finally, you hesitated to press the offensive," concluded Master Gear-Het, "While the doctrine of our order is defensive, you must sometimes attack to save lives."

Vandar waved his hand in dismissal and Brassk left the room, dejected. The other warrior slowly fell in-step behind him.

"Where are you going?" Master Vandar called out.

The warrior turned around. "I won, didn't I?" he shrugged, "What could you have to say to me?"

"It is not for you to say what we have to say," Vandar stated, perturbed by the student's assumption, "Come stand before us, young Revan."

Reluctantly, Revan moved back into the center of the dueling chamber. He stood before the masters, hands behind his back, sweat dripping from his messy blond hair. Revan was not one of the strongest or the tallest students at the Enclave, but his speed and agility were unmatched. Many of the students, if not all, believed him to be the number one padawan at the Enclave and while some resented him, most followed him. Rumor had it that he had never lost a duel. Reputation, however, did not matter to the Masters.

"What have you to say, young one?" Vandar asked, his piercing stare upon the trainee before him.

Revan looked confused. He had expected that the Masters would reprimand him for what they thought he had done wrong. Of course, Revan knew of his own mistakes. He had allowed Brassk to push him into a corner not once, but twice. A more able opponent would have capitalized on those opportunities, but Revan had been able to leap out of both of those traps. Also, Revan had been too aggressive, leaving himself open to counterattacks and he had tired himself out with his first flurry of attacks, leaving too little energy to fight at a sustained level. None of these things had affected the outcome, though, and he didn't know if the Masters had noticed them. Maybe they hadn't. Or maybe this was another test. The four of them sat before him and Revan made his bold move.

"Nothing."

Tension hung in the air. The Masters silently contemplated him. None of them seemed to want to speak. Three of them seemed to regard each other, but Vandar's eyes hung upon him like those of an owl studying its prey.

Master Vrook broke the silence, speaking up for the first time. "You are dismissed." Revan bowed sharply, turned on his heel, and exited the room.

"Such a talented student," Master Gear-Het noted.

"Yes," Master Meelo nodded in agreement, "The padawan Brassk was one of the best, yet Revan defeated him with ease."

"His technique is still flawed," Vrook pointed out, "Revan was forced to rely upon pure ability to escape a few situations."

"Yet," Meelo interjected, "Revan's victory never seemed in doubt. His pure strength of Force is greater than that of any padawan I've ever seen."

"Rumors have begun spreading about him," Gear-Het said, "Some of the Masters that know of the prophecy have been in his presence and felt his talent. They think he may be the Chosen One."

"That prophecy," Vrook stared down the other two, "Is just a legend from the days of archaic Force users and galactic chaos. There's no truth in it whatsoever."

The three Master's fell silent. Master Vandar had not spoken this entire time. His glance remained fixed upon the spot where Revan had last been. The fact that he elected not to speak about this topic made more of a statement than if he had chosen to say something.

"Master Vandar?" Meelo said.

Vandar did not move. "Assemble the students," his tiny voice spoke softly, yet authoritatively, "It is time for them to be apprenticed.

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	2. Selection

Chapter 2:

The next pair of combatants brushed by Revan as he exited the dueling chamber, briefly stealing glances at the confident padawan. While Revan was only thirteen, many of the students expected him to leave the academy this year instead of waiting until he was fifteen, which is the age when padawans must leave the academy. Most masters believed the more time spent at the academy, the better, but there were rare exceptions where padawans left a year early. Two years was unheard of. But such was the depth of Revan's talent.

The Jedi had only discovered him when he was five. Most students had been at the academy since they were two or three, so they had a natural head start. Revan had been born on the rim world of Taris to aristocratic parents. At an early age, they discovered he had an affinity for the Force, but they feared losing their son to the Jedi, so they raised him in secret in the slums of the planet-city, hoping to hide him. However, by his fifth birthday, Revan had begun unknowingly emitting calls in the force whenever he was frightened or sad. The Jedi Master Vandar sensed these feelings while passing by Taris and traced them to the boy. Sensing his enormous Force potential, Vandar was able to convince young Revan to come with him to the academy, against the will of his parents.

When Revan first arrived at the academy, no one really took notice of him, as Vandar brought him to the academy in relative obscurity, so as not to pressure him. Something was obviously different about the boy, though. What took most padawans weeks to master, he excelled in days. The seniors at the academy had only achieved their level of skill after 12 years of intense study. Revan's abilities had surpassed theirs in only eight. And so had his ego.

Vandar had watched as the young, idealistic boy that he brought in changed quickly into an arrogant, selfish teenager. While he was not ready to give up on this boy yet and condemn him as unfit for the order, his attitude would have to change. Particular evidence of this had come when Vandar challenged Revan to admit his mistakes, and the padawan could not. A lesson would have to be taught. And Vandar knew just the person.

"All prospective padawans report to the audience chamber at this time."

Revan heard the announcement and eagerly proceeded to the chamber. It was time for the Masters to accept students now. All 15 year olds and any others who believed themselves ready to become apprentices were to report for selections or rejections. A different crop of Knights and Masters came every year to select their new apprentices. Those who were picked would continue their journeys to knighthood and those who were not were sent to various schools and institutions to continue their education. That is, if you were fifteen. With Revan being thirteen, he had nothing to worry about, because he would still have two more chances after this. Still, he expected to graduate today.

Revan and the rest of the padawans filed in arranged themselves on the floor in rows, choosing their position by where they felt guided to by the Force. Revan immediately took up a position at the front of the crowd, directly facing the Masters. The young Jedi stood at attention as the rest filed in and filled out the floor. Brassk was the last in, and he took a position near the back. Behind and to the right of Revan stood a tall and powerfully built senior, Malak. The best friend of Revan, Malak had the same prideful arrogance that plagued Revan, but also had less restraint than his friend. He was known to sometimes lose control in a fight and simply attack without regard for his own defense and without thinking. He was also the second most promising student at the academy, which frightened Vandar. But he trusted in the Jedi to train those who would best serve the galaxy and he spoke little of it.

The diminutive master stepped into plain view as all eyes in the room focused on him. "The time has come," Vandar announced, the Force projecting his voice to fill the chamber, "To bid goodbye to these walls that held you for so long. No longer bound by us will you be, but by things elsewhere." His gaze shifted across the room, viewing the students, "Become Jedi, some of you will. Some of you," Vandar's gaze rested on Revan for a second, "May not. The path you follow from here, matter it does not, for proud of all of you I am. Faced adversity, you have and face more will you. Like sons and daughters you all are to me, but now you must go. See you again, I will. May the Force be with you." And Vandar nodded, then moved through the crowd to the back of the room. The padawans stole glances at him as the diminutive master slowly passed them.

Master Vrook stepped forward. "The Jedi Masters have discussed things and have chosen their padawans. When your name is called, join your Master in the front of the chamber. All those who are not called are expected to leave quietly and return to their rooms. You will be contacted on how to proceed." Vrook waited for his instructions to sink in before beginning. "Let us begin. Master Ar-Kal chooses padawan Pall Mast. Master…" Vrook's continued as Revan waited patiently for his name. He didn't expect to be chosen first, but hoped to apprentice under Master Katarr, or maybe Master Vash, or even Master Zhar. "Master Katarr chooses padawan Malak." Malak stepped forward and joined Katarr as Vrook went on.

The choice of Master Vash came…and Revan remained. The young Jedi began to grow worried and frustrated. He knew he was the best, they knew he was the best, so why hadn't he been chosen. There were only three Masters left and he was running out of chances. Master Zez-Kai Ell passed on him and it was down to Master Zhar and Master Oben. "Master Zhar chooses padawan Brassk." Surprised, Brassk stepped forward to join his master at the front of the room. Revan stood in shock. "That is all. Dismissed." Vrook turned to leave.

"What about Master Oben?" Vrook and the other Masters turned to the source. Revan looked desperately from Vrook, to Oben, to Vandar. The elderly master's gaze locked with Revan's. Revan's eyes begged him. Vandar sighed and turned away.

"All who were not chosen are to report to their rooms," Vrook stated, "There are no exceptions."

Revan turned to the Master a look partly of anger and partly of sorrow. The padawan bowed sharply and swiftly then left the chamber.


	3. To be a Jedi

Chapter 3:

"Much anger in that one," Oben said, approaching Master Vandar as the pairings filtered out of the audience chamber. Oben stood 6'2" and looked like someone who would be more comfortable with a blaster than a lightsaber. His messy brown hair accented the stubble on his unshaven face, as well as his unorthodox views of the force.

"But also much good," Vandar added, "A powerful Jedi, he will become. Come yet, his time has not." The pair slowly moved towards the door. "An apprentice, you did not take this year Oben. May I ask why?"

Oben nodded, striding slowly with Vandar. "Of course, Master. I do not believe that anyone in this particular group would benefit from my teachings. Especially the one you speak of."

"Disagree with me, do you?" Vandar questioned, "What see you in the boy's future?"

"I see darkness, Master," sighed Oben, "I see the death of the order. I see all that is terrible in this world. But…" Oben stopped, as if deciding whether or not to continue.

"Go on," Vandar encouraged, stopping and looking up at the athletic Master.

"I also can see him as the light that leads the way," Oben said softly, "He could lead the order into a new era of prosperity," the man looked down and sighed, "But at a terrible cost. There can be no light without darkness."

Vandar nodded and Oben followed him out of the chamber. The two of them walked silently out onto the grounds outside the temple where the younger students were practicing their techniques, or dueling with wooden practice swords.

"Oben!" A voice yelled out. Oben turned to see the source, but Vandar only sighed,

"What do you want, young Revan?" Oben asked as the padawan approached him from the academy.

"I challenge you to a duel," Revan stated approaching the Master, "If I win, you'll take me on as your apprentice."

"And if you lose?"

"I won't," Revan stated confidently, "But if I do, you may do with me as you wish."

Oben looked down to Master Vandar. The tiny Master nodded his head. Oben looked up at Revan. "Agreed."

"Good," Revan said quickly, and pulled a wooden sword out of the hands of a younger student into his and attacked Oben with an overhead slash. Oben, almost caught off guard, rolled away from the blow and called a free sword to him, blocking an attack to his flank as Revan pulled the weapon to his left after the missed strike. Oben pushed Revans sword away and rolled to his feet, facing the teen. The sword twirled nimbly in Revan's hands as he launched a few quick attacks to try and assess his opponent's capabilities.

Oben easily repelled the weak blows and lunged with his left hand to Revan's left side. The young Jedi deflected the blow and spun to the right, raising his blade above his head for a two-handed strike as the Master went by. Oben sensed the attack coming and leaned back, planting his left foot and using his momentum to swing around his right foot and take out Revan's legs. Revan landed on his side and immediately rolled away from Oben as the Master swept the ground where Revan had just been with the tip of his blade.

Revan leapt to his feet and met a strike in front of his body. The padawan was obviously much less powerful, physically, than Oben was. The locked weapons pushed back towards Revan's brow, as Oben's unflinching face moved closer. Then Revan stopped pushing. The strength of Oben pushed Revan's upper body backward, but not the rest. The padawn's left foot sat under the Master, and, using his right leg as a pivot point, Revan carried the momentum from Oben's push and flung the Jedi Master over his head.

Totally caught off guard with this unorthodox maneuver, Oben landed on his back in the grass about ten feet from Revan. With victory in his grasp, Revan spun the practice weapon in his grasp and jumped towards his fallen opponent, intending to bring the sword down in an over hand slash on the fallen Master. His attack met resistance and the crouched teenager stared down into the cool eyes of Master Oben, who had blocked the blow. Revan was spun around by the force of the shove Oben had used to push him away, but the padawan felt him get to his knees and continued the spin, striking at Oben's neck on the next turn, sure the master would never be able to react in time. He had won.

Revan halted his blow a centimeter from Oben's neck, once again showing his skill with a blade. He smiled calmly into the eyes of the unmoving Oben. "I won," Revan grinned. His heart rushed. He had just beaten a Jedi Master. He was better than he thought. He wouldn't have to stay at the academy anymore. He could go and start his journey to knighthood. _And be the youngest to do it?_ Revan proudly added to himself.

"Did you?"

Revan snapped out of his dreams of grandeur. The padawan felt a light tap on his chin. His gaze fell to the wooden sword pointed at his throat. His heart sank. Oben had gotten him after all. It was a draw. His dream of becoming the youngest Jedi to leave the academy ended here. He had failed. The practice weapon fell from his grasp. "How?" was all he could utter.

Oben stood up. The older man tossed the weapon aside and looked down at the speechless boy. "Did you really think you could win?" Oben asked, "You are a teenage padawan. I am a Jedi Master. You had lost when you let your anger take control and challenged me to a duel. You've got to realize, Young Revan, that you aren't invincible. In here, you may seem to be the greatest Jedi in the galaxy. But, as good as the academy is, there are some things about being a Jedi that cannot be taught. They must be _learned_. That is why you lost. That is why you weren't chosen. There are things that you can still learn here, like humility, respect, obedience, patience, and prudence. These things you lack. Treasure them, for they are the way to the light. You are not ready, go back."

The older master turned and began walking away. "Not like this," Revan whispered, "You can't leave like this. I won't let you." The small cylinder on Revan's belt leapt into his hand. The lightsaber hissed to life, emitting a purple blade of energy. "It's not over yet!" Revan yelled at the departing Master.

Oben turned around, and sighed upon sighting the beam of energy. "What is it you are trying to prove, Revan?" Oben asked in sincerity.

The young one gritted his teeth and assumed an attack pose. "Draw your sword, you coward!" he spat.

"You leave me no choice," Oben's picked the lightsaber off of his belt and ignited it, revealing a light blue blade. Revan twirled the weapon in his right hand and leapt at Oben. He attacked right, high, low, right, high, right, spin to left. Oben fluidly blocked the blows, catching Revan's last spin and kicking him backwards. The student had little time to recover as Oben moved on the offensive gracefully batting Revan's blade to the left then spinning and kicking it from his hands. Before Revan could call the blade back to him, Oben's blue blade pointed at his throat.

"Have you ever killed a man?" the Master demanded. Revan shook his head.

"Have you ever seen a man die?"

"No."

"Have you ever faced a man in combat?"

"No…" Revan's voice grew smaller.

"Have you ever faced adversity so great, you thought you would die?"

"No."

"How could you. You live here, safe and protected by the Master's. But what's going to happen out in the real world? There won't always be someone there to protect you. Your opponent won't stop in the real world. If I really wanted to kill you right now, you'd be dead. Realize and understand that. You owe your life to me." Oben extinguished his blade, and clipped it on his belt. Revan relaxed and reached to call his blade back to him when Oben grabbed him by his collar and stared deep into him. "You called me a coward for trying to avoid combat. You don't know what bravery is. What it means to stare death in the face and say 'No, not this time.' To live one moment longer to save someone else. To give up everything you had so others may live. How could you possibly understand what bravery is?"

Oben dropped Revan to the ground, but his gaze remained locked on the student. And Revan's remained locked on him. "You will never become a Jedi," Oben finished and broke the lock, heading back towards the academy and his ship.

"Thank you, Master Oben," Vandar told him as he approached, "I'm sure your lesson was appreciated."

Oben shook his head angrily and continued past the Master. "He will never be a Jedi."

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Sort of Long chapter. Finale of the academy phase. Please Read and Review. Next Chapter: Kreia and Things Go Wrong.


	4. Visions

Chapter 4:

"_You will never be a Jedi."_

"No!" Darkness. All around him. What was going on? Where was he? What happened to the academy? He was just there. Where did it go? What happened to me?

"Hey man, keep it down. We're tryin' to sleep here." Revan stared blankly at the refugee sitting next to him, then nodded slightly. The man shrugged, shifted his position against the hull, and closed his eyes, trying to get some sleep on the journey.

The phrase from the academy still reverberated in his mind. Revan had never really gotten over it. The ghost of that day still haunted his dreams. It stood as a constant reminder of what he had been like, what he could become. Things had changed. Or at least he hoped they had.

The uncomfortable refugee clothing clawed at his skin. He had worn this same crap for at least 3 days now, riding this unregistered transport on a mission to the outer rim. Pulling the scant blanket closer, Revan tried to close his eyes and get some rest, like the thousands of other refugees stuck in the hold with him. Never having flown as a refugee before, Revan had arrived late and gotten stuck with a spot against the freezing cold hull. The icy chill of space somehow penetrated what the captain claimed to be reinforced DuraSteel, however Revan doubted it. Sleep was impossible now.

But he had slept once. Long enough to dream. It had seemed so real. He had been back at the academy, back on the apprentice selection day when he was thirteen. That was three years ago. Revan had not even submitted his name for selection the next year, remaining at the academy those next two years. A little more than a year ago, the Jedi Master Kreia had taken him on as an apprentice. He had heard little of her before becoming her apprentice and assumed she was a relatively new master, judging by how she was in her late 30s. Of course, she never told him her exact age and he never asked. He would of asked before, but not now.

The lesson of that day had driven Revan to become what he had not been. It seemed like his arrogance departed with his best friend and rival Malak, soaring off in a space shuttle, never to return to him. Or at least he hoped. The last two years at the academy, Revan only participated in the required dueling exercises, refusing to spar with anyone, student or teacher. Most of his time was spent inside the meditation chambers, where he reflected inwardly on how his life and training progressed, trying to root out the source of his arrogance and pride. If he couldn't do that, he would bury it down deep, where it could never tempt him again.

Revan left the academy a very different man. Where he had been a flamboyant, proud teenager only two years before, he was now a quiet, insightful young man, listening to his masters, thinking before he acted, and learning all he could. That's probably why the Masters had decided that Kreia would be the best choice of a master for him. He wished to learn, and she could-no, would-teach him. Which is what had brought him here, to this place. This was not only a mission, but also another one of her lessons. While she slept peacefully up in the crew quarters of the ship, acting as a chef. Meanwhile, he tagged along as a refugee, sleeping in the hold, living on meager rations, wearing ragged cloths, etc. This was supposed to teach him that Jedi are not above others, they must protect everyone especially the weak. The best way to protect the weak, she said, was to learn what nits like to be in their position. Then you can determine what is the best choice of action for protecting them. Quite frankly, the only lesson he saw in it was never eat anything that's still moving. His stomach still ached from that meal on the first day.

The sixteen-year-old Jedi rose to his feet and stretched his sore muscles. Outside of his undergarments, he wore only a thin tan tunic under a brown blanket with a hole where he stuck his head out that Kreia claimed to be a robe. Under his robe hung the cold metallic cylinder of his light saber, his only companion on this long and boring trip. Normally, he would have gone into a Force trance in order to gain rest, but Kreia had specifically forbid him from using the Force on this trip. There were times when he would have to rely on himself, and not the Force, she had told him, and you must be prepared. At the time, it had sounded like a good idea, but that was before he found out where he would be sleeping. Now he most definitely regretted her decision.

Revan had grown to about 5' 9" in the past years, and had a slim build. His light brown hair, which he usually kept neatly back, was a mess, barely touched over these last couple of days. Small traces of facial hair were growing on his formerly clean-shaven face and small black bags had appeared under his eyes, betraying his lack of sleep. The only thing he could think of was that there was only one more day before they reached Duro and the real mission began.

Duro, a planet well known for its massive construction yards, was under threat from a terrorist organization, claiming to hold the yards hostage. Kreia and Revan had been sent to deal with the terrorists and negotiate the release of the shipping yards. A relatively simple task, especially compared to what was going on in the galaxy right now.

The Republic was once again in negotiations with the Unified Mandalorian Congregation of Worlds to resolve a dispute over piracy occurring in their sector. The Mandalorians were becoming very restless, and with their already war-like tendencies, it looked like a war might break out. The Jedi would be put in a very difficult position, having to choose between defending the Republic, as it had done for centuries, or advocating peace, which was a fundamental policy of the order. Revan hoped that the negotiations produced favorable results and war could be averted. He hoped he would never have to make a choice like that in his life. That was the last thing he wanted to do.

The young Jedi stretched his limbs and tiptoed among the sleeping bodies and out of the hold, down a hallway, and onto the observation deck. Right now, the deck was empty; refugees weren't allowed to sleep there so that the crew could use it in an emergency and not alert any of the passengers. It also left it open for anyone who just wanted to get away from the clutter of the hold and just center themselves. Which was the reason this young Jedi had come tonight.

Revan kneeled down on the floor and closed his eyes. He blocked out the noise from the ship, the light of the stars, and the trembling of the deck. He let the universe flow through him, and dropped into the current, just floating above the surface. He felt the planets around him, could see the bright lights of Coruscant, the soft glow of Manaan, the utter stillness of night on Dantooine. Then something else. A barren world. Darkness clouded his vision as the world reared up in his face. There was nothing on it, yet something was there. A presence. There was no life, only death.

Suddenly, something was there. A settlement; people, coming and going in freighters, cruisers, gunships. Gunships? What was this place? No time to think, the vision raced on, down through the settlement to another, larger building. Outside, Revan could se people standing in line. They seemed to be begging for something. A stern-faced man stood in front of them. He reached out his hand, and one of them reached at his throat. Foam flecked his lips as he fell to the ground, dead. The man had just been choked by the force. Who had done this?

Now he was inside. Lightsabers, everywhere. It was like the academy, except these were not Jedi. Revan could feel fear and anger emanating off of the occupants of this academy and it struck him. This was a place of the dark side. But where? Is this the future? Or is he looking at some ancient training ground for dark Jedi during the war wit Exar Kun?

He was in the upper levels now. These halls were deserted, obviously not meant for the training of padawans, but for something else entirely. His vision raced forward, then slowed to follow someone walking down a hall. It was a man, tall, wearing a cape and tight-fitting red jumpsuit. A metal device lay on his lower jaw, but he couldn't see his face, his back was to Revan. The man walked out onto a balcony, where a shorter man in dark robes stood out, overlooking a deep valley.

_The fleet is ready, my lord, _the first one said, _It is only waiting for you._

_Very good, Malak, _the other said, _I shall be there shortly._

_Yes, my lord._ The tall man departed quickly, and Revan hadn't been able to see his face. But, the short man had called him Malak. Could this be Malak in the future? How could this happen, Malak would never fall. Revan couldn't let this come to pass.

Then the smaller man began to turn. Who was this guy? His voice sounded oddly familiar. What had he done to Malak? Revan would make him pay. The man wore a mask, Revan saw, but he reached up slowly to remove it. Who are you?

"What do you see, young one?"

And the vision dissipated. Revan's eyes snapped open. He had not seen the man's face, but he still felt like he knew who it was. Even now, he felt the dark presence of the man hanging over him, like an invisible shroud of dread. He would find him. And when he did, Revan would kill him. Not take him prisoner, not try to help him, kill him. He was sure.

"Are you going to say something?"

"Yes, Master," Revan said, slowly turning to face Kreia, "I am going to say something."

Kreia nodded. "You may proceed."

"I saw a dark world, an evil place," Revan told her, "No one lived there. All I could feel was death."

Kreia's head bobbed slightly. "Yes, I see." She motioned for him to go on.

"Then there was something there. A settlement and training grounds. I felt pain, fear, suffering, and anger."

Kreia's eyes narrowed imperceptibly. "Are you sure of what you've seen?"

"Yes, Master. It was all very clear. But the vision didn't end there. I saw a powerful man, wearing a red suit and a cape. His lower jaw was missing, but it felt more like a prod battle scar than a disability. He emanated such pure Force strength that I couldn't believe it. He was clearly a leader of this place."

Kreia stood still, obviously trying to perceive what all of this could mean. "How did it end?"

"The tall man walked onto a balcony, and there stood someone whose Force presence was even greater than his. The man was clad in a heavy black robe, and wore a mask. The tall man called him 'my lord', so I assume he was the highest leader. They spoke of a fleet being ready to leave and then the shorter man told…" Revan hesitated, debating whether to tell her about Malak, but decided against it, "the tall man that he would leave with them shortly. Then it ended."

Kreia stood still, as if listening for more. When she had figured out that Revan had no more to tell her, she sighed and rubbed her forehead. "This is disturbing," She told him, despite how obvious that was.

"What does it mean?" Revan asked.

"I'm not sure, but we're going to have to tell the Jedi Council when we get back. First, we finish our mission. Then we look into the future."

Revan nodded, but the vision lingered in his mind. He somehow felt connected to the events that had just transpired in his mind, and that it held some bearing on his future. It was an awful feeling, but he just couldn't seem to get it out of his mind.

"Now is not the time for this, Revan," Kreia said, "We're almost there, so go get some rest. Tomorrow is going to be a long day."

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A long one, at least for me. Lotta work last week. Sorry for the delay. Please R&R. thanks for the reviews so far.


	5. Attack

Chapter 5:

Sleep was hard to come by that night. The sparse times when Revan was able to close his eyes and rest for a while, the sputtering of the engines woke him. Another benefit of refugee travel, the sleeping quarters were almost directly next to the engines. And when Revan said almost directly, he meant that a thin piece of metal separated the two areas. Anything to save another buck.

But that wasn't his main problem. What was really bothering him was the vision. Why had he seen this? Of all the people in the galaxy, why was he the one chosen to bear the news of a war that would tear it asunder? It wasn't fair. He shouldn't have to carry this burden. He wasn't even a Jedi knight yet; he was only 16! Why couldn't one of the Masters have seen this? They would be better prepared to deal with something like this. They knew what to do, they knew what it meant, they could understand.

_Could they?_

Revan started. A voice had just appeared inside his head. It wasn't his voice and he didn't imagine it. Revan couldn't imagine Kreia asking him to question the Jedi Masters, but someone had definitely just spoken to him through the Force. And if it wasn't her, then who was it? Could someone else on this tub be a Jedi? That's impossible; if they were, he would've felt them.

_Would you?_

There it was again. It was definitely not Kreia. It had to be someone else. But who? Revan scanned the area. He could see a dark shape in the distance stand up. It began to walk away, out of the hold. Revan knew Kreia had told him to sleep, but this was too important. This thing could use the Force. He was sure of it.

_Are you sure? How do you know what you see is real?_

"I know," Revan stated out loud, more determined than ever. He rose up and followed the dark figure, sliding around the sleeping bodies that littered the floor. The figure moved into a dimly lit hallway. Revan had never seen this place before. Lights flickered on and off above him, giving the hall an eerie glow. Something didn't feel right. He shouldn't be here.

_Are you afraid? What do you fear Revan? Do you fear the darkness? Or do you fear the loss of light?_

"I don't fear the dark," Revan boldly countered, "I am not afraid." And he plunged on. The Force guided him, turning him through the tunnels of the ship. He suddenly burst onto the main deck. Now he knew something was wrong. Refugees weren't supposed to be on the main deck during night hours. He could get in serious trouble if he were found, not only from the crew, but from Kreia as well. She would not be happy if he blew their cover. Then he saw it.

The shadow was there. It loomed in front of him, silhouetted by the bright deck lights behind it. It beckoned him on. Called him to follow. Severe repercussions would occur if Revan did not follow, it warned. The creature forced images into his brain. He showed the ship in flames. Kreia lay in a heap on the ground, a hole through her stomach. Revan lay next to her, trying to coax her awake. Then another person entered the frame. A red lightsaber ignited in front of Revan's face. Fear was evident on his face as he saw the lightsaber swing back to strike him.

"NO!" Revan yelled clutching his head, "Get Out!" The young Jedi grasped his lightsaber from under his clothing and ignited it. The dark figure immediately ran away. Revan chased after him, shutting the blade down so he could run faster. He followed hot on its tail, chasing him through the ship. Kreia had felt him, he knew by now. But he didn't care. All that mattered was catching this thing and eliminating it.

He could no longer see it. The Force guided him now. He ran on, his senses showing him the way. The bridge. The phantom had gotten onto the bridge. He had to get there before it caused any damage. The crew would be killed. It could destroy the ship from there. The refugees would all die. He had to stop it.

Revan reached the bridge door. It was sealed shut. The security system was active, as it always was at night, to prevent break ins. Then how did it get in? Revan could see no marks on the door, no signs of a struggle, as if it had forced someone to do it for him. Only Kreia, the captain, and him knew the code. How was it in there? It didn't make sense.

Death. Revan felt a crewmember die on the other side of the door. Fear permeated the air around him. It had to be in there. The soldiers were afraid for their lives. He needed to get in, to save them. Revan flipped up the cover of the security panel. His fingers hesitated. Revan's heart told him to push the buttons and go help the soldiers, save the ship. But his mind told him to wait. Something wasn't right. It couldn't be in there.

Pain filled his senses. They were being tortured. They wouldn't tell it how to activate the self-destruct. And they didn't know. It would kill them, and then it would destroy the controls. He couldn't wait any longer. His fingers quickly punched in the security code and the door flew open.

"Wait!" yelled a voice from inside his mind. Too late. He saw it now. Everything was normal. The soldiers were fine. No one else was here. No dark Jedi. No evil man. Nothing. It had all been an illusion. He had been tricked into opening the door.

A wave of strength threw him aside like a leaf. A figure cloaked in black walked into his vision. The thing lazily swept its hand in front of it, sweeping the soldiers from their posts and flinging them in different directions. Then it turned to him. Revan stared into the pale white eyes of a man well beyond his age, even older than Kreia. Yet power flowed from him like water from a well; it filled him and was his essence. A creased head and sagging face matched the color of his eyes, a sickly white from years of over reliance on the Force, on the dark side. This was no dark Jedi. This was a full-fledged Sith.

Revan stared in slack-jawed horror as the man approached him and squatted down to reach the padawan's eye level. Revan stared deep into those horrible white orbs. Fear filled his mind and a deep cold spread in his body. "Thank you," the Sith whispered, "The ship is mine. You may join me if you wish."

Revan's jaw trembled. Even if Revan wanted to say yes, he couldn't have. His mind couldn't focus. He was too scared. He was going to die. That was all Revan could think of. And it pained him. Mustering all of his will, he was barely able to stammer a short, quivering, "No."

The Sith raised his hand and Revan's stiff body came with it, lifting from the floor. "Such a cliché. The young Jedi telling the evil Sith Lord 'I will never turn'," The Sith smiled, "But that's only because they don't know."

Revan's interest piqued slightly for a second. What was he talking about? What didn't Revan know? _No_, a voice inside of him said, _You have to fight it Revan. It's not a path you want to go down. Let it go. Forget it; force it from your mind. Resist. Don't give in. You must. Just hold on a little longer. _How could he? Death was staring him in the face. He was cold, so cold. All he wanted to do was leave; go home and never come out again, just to stay away from this terrible thing. But he couldn't. All he could do was watch.

"You want to know don't you?" he asked mockingly, malice gleaming in his eyes, penetrating deep into Revan. "You want to know why you are getting these visions? You want to know what they mean? You want to know where they're from?" The Sith nodded slightly, his eyes still locked on Revan, who shivered slightly, but was otherwise incapable of movement. "In due time young one. You will learn. We will be seeing you again."

And he was moving. Spinning in the air, up was down, left was right. His head hit something hard and pain shot through his body. His ears were ringing. Things got fuzzy as he reached back his hand to touch the place where his head hit. He felt moisture and warmth. He brought his hand back forward and Revan saw red covering his hand. Blood.

His legs felt unstable, but he rose anyway. The man was going to blow up the ship. He had to stop him. Revan stumbled once, twice. Then he fell. He cleared his mind and targeted the pain, forcing it out. He looked up, regaining some clarity in his vision. Two figures with blades; one green, one red. A sound…some type of humming and a loud siren. Then his body left the ground, as if by magic.

But it wasn't magic. He was on someone's back. He could see boots hitting the floor behind him, but could raise his head to see their occupants. What did the siren mean? It had to mean something. Just outside of his mind.

The clack of boots grew louder as they began to move faster. What was the siren? He was bouncing violently on the person's shoulder now. He could begin to distinguish some sounds that seemed to be words. Were they related to the siren? What were they saying?

The boots slowed and came to a stop. He could hear a whoosh as something opened. He was thrown violently into a chair, his head hitting the cushion hard. Then he knew. It meant the self-destruct was activated. That's what the siren meant. The Sith Lord. Kreia. He had to get back there. To help her. To save the ship. To save the people. It was his duty. He struggled against the man who had been carrying him, but the man held him fast in the seat, preventing him from escaping and buckling him in securely. The man pulled back and quickly closed the hatch. Revan slammed his fists against the window. He had to get back.

Then he was gone. The escape pod launched from its place in the hull and sped away. But his eyes remained on the ship. He reached out to Kreia in the Force. She was alive, but in pain. Had she lost? He could feel the Sith Lord also on the ship, but couldn't tell where he was or if he was injured as well. Then he felt calm from Kreia.

_Forgive me, Revan._

And she was gone. Explosions rippled across the ship, blowing huge chunks of hull off into space. Then the engines overloaded and the ship blew completely, spewing the remaining pieces into space. It was over.

"We mourn with you, Revan."

Master Vrook stood over the teenage padawan, a comforting hand on his shoulder. It had been two weeks since the explosion of the refugee cruiser. Revan had been returned to the Enclave immediately, and another pair had been dispatched to deal with the problem on Duro. The problem on Duro was the least of his worries now. Revan had just lost his master, his best and only companion over the last year. She was as much a parent to him as the Masters had been here, at the Enclave. And now she was gone.

"Its my fault," Revan whispered, staring down at the small marker he had placed in the Field of Fallen Masters, "I let the Sith on the bridge. I led him there. I should have resisted the temptation. I should have been stronger."

"That's not your fault, young Revan," Master Zhar encouraged him, staring over his shoulder at the marker, "If the Sith Lord was as powerful as you said, then it didn't matter that it was you. He could just as easily used anyone else."

"But that's the point," Revan insisted, "I was so easily misled by him. Why was it so simple to deceive me? I'm supposed to be better than a normal person. I should have been able to resist, to fight back and stop myself. But I couldn't."

"You are a padawan, young one," Vandar added, standing to his right, half a step behind him, "Sometimes, not even Jedi fully trained might have seen through his deception. Do not yourself blame."

"I was afraid," Revan continued, "I feared him. It was the first time in my life I truly faced danger and I…and I shrunk back. I was a coward. I could have resisted, but I didn't I just sat there, and said nothing. I was weak." _But I was also angry_, Revan added to himself, _I got caught up in my desire to take action and anger at the shadow overtook me. I could've controlled it, I should have. But I didn't. That was my true failure._

"Fear is normal, padawan," Dorak casually stated from behind him, "It means that you are human. We prepare you the best we can here, but we can't prepare you for everything. You were in an unfamiliar and dangerous situation. Naturally, you would be afraid. What determines your progress is how you react the next time in a similar situation. I am almost anxious to see how you do react."

Revan's head turned around slightly so he could glance at the Masters. "Does this mean that you've decided who my new master is to be?" he questioned, already knowing the answer, "Am I to presume that Master Dorak is to continue my Jedi training?"

"It does," Master Vrook nodded, removing his hand from Revan's shoulder. He stepped back and Zhar and Vandar followed him. "We shall leave you two to discuss your assignment."

Revan's head slumped back to the marker. His long hair fluttered lightly in the breeze. Had it really been so long since he had a haircut? Had there been wind before? He hadn't noticed it until now, in the silence Had Dorak created the wind? Could a Jedi do that? None of these things really mattered, but right now, the answers meant everything. He needed to think about something, to _do_ something, anything to take his mind off this guilt.

"I know how you feel, young one," Dorak said in almost apologetic tone, "I know what its like to lose a person who was a great part of your life. I know."

Revan nodded, but didn't mean it. He was somewhere else right now, trying to find peace of mind, to quiet the doubts in his own head and put himself back on the path. He wanted nothing more than to move on and follow Master Dorak, but something was holding him back. Some lingering hope that he hadn't failed and she was still alive out there. And if she were, he would find her, and make it up to her.

"Pack your things, Revan," Master Dorak said shortly, turning and walking back towards the Enclave. Revan instinctively followed him. "We are going…to Dathomir."

Revan snapped back to reality. They were going on a mission already? First day together and they were going out? What did he have planned? "To Dathomir, Master?"

"Yes, padawan," Dorak smiled, glad that Revan was back with him now, "We will travel lightly. An old friend is meeting us there. Something has come to our attention."

_An old friend? _Revan wondered _Whom could he be talking about? What old friends do I have that are Jedi Knights?_ But Revan had a feeling he knew who it was. He just hoped he was wrong.


	6. Friends, New and Old

Finally decided to have an update. And just in case anyone's checking, I don't own Revan, Malak, and most of the other characters. They belong to George Lucas. I just like to play in his universe.

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Chapter 6:

"My apologies, sir."

Revan looked down to see a child of about twelve staring up at him. For some reason, he was on the ground.

"Not your fault at all Padawan Lars." Dorak approached from behind Revan's shoulder. "Where is your brother?"

A second boy, identical to the first, walked over to help his twin brother up. "Greetings, Master Dorak."

Dorak smiled, "Ah, young Del, how are you this morning?"

The padawan gave a quick bow as his double brushed himself off. "I am well, as is my brother." Del glanced sideways at him. "Ben sometimes has a tendency to get caught up in what's around him…"

An icy stare shot Del's way, "Master, I assure you that is not the case. Besides, someone here forgets to fully power his lightsaber for blaster bolt training and get stung on-" Del prepared to retort.

"Padawans, no more bickering," Dorak's voice cut through the air authoritatively. The twins silenced themselves immediately. "Now, Revan."

Revan snapped out of his trance immediately and returned to the conversation. "Yes, Master?"

"I believe you owe Padawan Ben Lars an apology."

Revan nodded slowly and looked the Lars twin in the eye. "Umm, I'm Del." The padawan jerked his thumb at the other. "He's Ben."

"Right." He turned slightly and gave a small bow. "My apologies Padawan Lars. I was not focused upon the present and did not see you. It will not happen again."

A smile crept across Ben's face and he bowed in response. "I, too, am sorry. Other things were on my mind. I should have seen you coming. I'm sorry."

Both extended their hands and completed the apology. The twins the proceeded upon their original course and Revan was left standing alone with Dorak. Dorak's gaze lingered upon the twins for a second longer and Revan noticed a tiny feeling of disappointment from his master.

"We expect great things from those two," Dorak noted, as if sensing Revan's thoughts, "As with you." Revan turned away as Dorak shifted to face him. The problem was not the great things expected of him. It was overcoming the arrogance that comes with knowing one's destiny.

His master noted the look upon his face. "Gather your belongings, Revan. We depart in one hour." Dorak turned on his heel and walked away.

With that, Revan stood alone, a familiar position for him in these two weeks since Master Kreia's death. Mentally and physically. They had questioned him over and over again, and he sat there, a child among time-hardened adults. As often as they consoled him, how could any one of them understand what he was going through right now?

"Excuse me." Revan had once again shifted into a daze and forgotten of the outside world. Now, a teenage girl, slightly older and taller than him, stood facing Revan. Apparently, it had been a light collision, as she didn't look too disturbed.

"My apologies," Revan bowed slightly.

"No need," she returned his bow and moved along. If he weren't a Jedi, Revan would have found her fairly attractive.

A small chortle came from behind him. "Reconsidering your vows?"

Revan laughed in return as he made an about face. Malak sat perched upon the edge of the fountain. "Only as much as any man." He strode closer to his former friend and competitor, "Still taking the slow road to eternal glory?"

A small shrug of his shoulders indicated that Malak was still a padawan. "Too early to give up on this life yet," He stood up from the ledge, "Though I must say, I could make a pretty good swoop racer. What with my looks and all, I'd be a hit."

"First off," Revan took a very matter-of-factly tone, "Everyone knows that I was the better swoop racer." Malak attempted to interrupt, but Revan vigorously waved him off. "And secondly, that pretty boy face is gonna get you nowhere. People like a tough guy, who stares death in the face and laughs."

"You don't think I could pull tough off?" Malak feigned genuine concern.

"No way," Revan shook his head. "They'd have to cut your jaw off or something before people would think you were tough."

"Why my jaw?"

Revan shrugged. "First thing that came to mind."

"Well, that'd really hurt."

"Case in point," Revan folded his arms.

Malak sneered at him. "What's got you feeling all tough today? Is it those two near death experiences with the Lars twins and Shayla Fram? Or is it the fact that you're going on a secret mission with Master Dorak, Master Kae and Padawan Fram, herself?"

"How do you know about my mission?"

"Word gets around," Malak shrugged, "Plus Shayla Fram's a very social person."

"Ah, you met her before?"

"No, she's a year older than me, never gave much thought to us younger apprentices until we all got lumped together after 18. Her and Master Kae have been here for about three weeks, waiting for Dorak to arrive. You're just lucky enough to get thrown into the picture."

"Lucky?" Somehow, dealing with his former master's death and immediately getting shipped out again didn't seem lucky. "Maybe." The padawans stood silently for a minute. Revan turned to walk for his chamber. Malak jumped after him.

"So apparently," he yawned, "This Master Kae's a bit of a headcase."

Revan continued walking, beginning to grow tired of Malak's presence. "Oh yeah?" he asked, very disinterestedly.

"Well," Malak continued unabated, "Seems like she has some very liberal views of the Jedi. Doesn't agree with all of the Council's decisions and thinks we should be more proactive. After what happened in the last war, with Exar Kun, I'm beginning to agree with her."

"So," Revan assessed, plodding forward, "You don't think that the Jedi Council is active enough? Could we have been saved a world of trouble if the Jedi Council ordered Kun assassinated before he could amass the followers he did?"

"Well, my grasp of the war isn't that strong, but yeah, that's about what I think."

"Are you willing to walk that fine line between action in the name of justice and action for the sake of action?"

They stopped. "Revan, we all walk that line," Malak's voice became very flat and abject, "Every day, we, as Jedi, have that choice to be good or evil. Being active isn't going to change that. The Council thinks that by never going after someone, we can maintain our roles as protectors of the galaxy. But what kind of protection do we offer if we are unable to fight back? They are bound, as much as politicians are bound, by idiotic rules and regulations. Can't we just follow our instincts? Shouldn't we just know what's right?"

"Are you saying the Jedi code is holding us back?" This conversation was becoming deeply philosophical.

Malak shook his head. "I don't know. It's just so old. So is the Council. Sometimes things stagnate in times of peace. Maybe the Jedi have." The thought hung fresh in the air. Silence engulfed them once again. So much depended upon the Jedi order. It couldn't afford to be ineffectual.

"No," Revan simply stated. Maybe it wasn't an answer to Malak's question. Revan wasn't sure he believed what he said. Most likely, it was an escape. This topic was becoming too dangerous and frightening to both of them. They didn't need to talk about it anymore.

"Yeah, you're right," Malak rubbed his head, "I'm just talking nonsense, forget I said anything. Uh, good luck with your mission."

"Thanks." Malak hesitated before leaving, wondering if this was how Revan was going to say goodbye. Revan's face was set in stone. With a little nod, Malak strode away. Revan entered his room and flipped on the switch. He emptied the few articles of clothing he owned into a small bag. The small piece of polished obsidianite that Kreia had given to him as a 16th birthday present hung from the glow lamp. It shone from the light reflected off its surface. He palmed the small stone in his left hand. The obsidianite felt insignificantly small in it. Revan switched off the lamp and slid the door shut. In the darkness, the stone pulsed with the color of molten lava. And he cried.


	7. Arren Kae

Chapter 7:

Light danced across the console. The various readouts, levers and buttons would have been indecipherable to any person without extensive flight training. Or had a few close calls and had been forced to learn on the fly. Shayla Fram fell into the latter category. Being able to use the Force was sometimes handy also. Right now, it was telling her that a presence approached through the main passageway.

"Master, you shouldn't sneak up on people like that," Shayla continued prepping the ship, "They might assume that you had something to hide."

Arren Kae folded her arms across her chest and leaned against the frame of the entrance port to the cockpit. "Maybe a padawan learner should be more concerned with preparing the _Hawk_ for takeoff instead of inquiring about the intentions of her master."

"It's not my place to question your intentions, Master," she responded, maintaining her vigilance over the ships readouts and functions, "Only to examine a set of circumstances and try to understand them. Is that not the task of a Jedi?"

Shayla sensed Master Kae's silent contemplation of her response. She tried to peer into her master's mind, but a myriad of defenses blocked her progress as she attempted to breach the first layer. "Master Dorak is bringing young Revan along with us." Her hands ceased to move on the board. "He will be joining us in our mission. Fully."

She swiveled around in the pilot's chair to face Master Kae, a look of obvious doubt on Shayla's face. "Is this….wise?"

The face of her master remained emotionless. "Revan is advanced for his age," Master Kae's eyes narrowed slightly as she sensed the next question of her apprentice, "He is not as you remember him at the academy. These last few years have shaped him differently."

"Maybe," Shayla couldn't shake that engrained image of the twelve-year-old Revan: very eager to learn, but more eager to fight and show off. "But still, he is young. Most students at his age would be kept far away from a mission like this."

"Yet he is not," Master Kae's tone signaled that the discussion had ended. Silence filled the cockpit once again. With a slight air of disappointment, Shayla turned back to the control console, hands moving deliberately across it to continue preparations. Behind her, Master Kae broke the silence. "How long?"

"The Ebon Hawk will be space worthy in eight minutes." Shayla could feel Master Kae hang behind her for a minute, then turn and head out of the cockpit. The sound of the boarding ramp opening echoed up to her.

* * *

"So this is the Ebon Hawk, eh?"

Revan peered over his shoulder. It appeared as if Malak had followed him into the hangar area. He was now standing about a foot to the left of the single bag, no larger than two square feet, of possessions that Revan had brought for the journey. The obsidianite once again dangled from his neck. "Honestly, I was expecting a little more."

"Sometimes the appearance of a thing can hide its true value," came Revan's smiling response to Malak.

His fellow padawan shrugged. "I'm just saying…" Malak's eyes quickly surveyed his possessions. He looked back up with a small smirk. "Expect to be gone long?"

"Does the phrase: 'Only the essentials' mean anything to a man of extravagance like yourself?"

"I can assure you," Malak's hand reached back behind his head, "Master Katarr travels in about as much extravagance as a bitter Mandalorian."

Revan laughed. "Is there any other kind?" Malak joined in the laughter. It felt good to step back and enjoy a good joke. He felt as if it been a century since he last did so.

"You know, I did some research with Master Zhar-"

"Lestin?" Revan butted in.

"Yeah," Malak nodded, "I'm still under Master Katarr, but I requested some additional lessons from him."

"Lessons in what? How to choose a poor padawan?"

Malak flinched. "Still bitter about that I see. You know, Brassk seems-"

He was silenced as Revan's hand shot up. "Let's not talk about it. I could beat that blundering fool without a lightsaber."

"Yeah…sure," Malak shuffled his fee, "Anyway I was doing some research with Master Zhar and turns out that Katarr is actually a small planet inhabited by these weird Miraluka people who have some kind of inherent Force-sight ability."

"So, your Master shares his name with some planet inhabited by Force-sensitive people? Is that what you're telling me?"

"Well that," Malak lowered his voice a little, "And the fact that Katarr may not be his name at all. It may have been adopted so that no one would know his real name."

At this, Revan started a little. Malak cast him a sidelong glance. A knowing feeling passed from Revan to Malak. Fortunately, another intervened to change the situation.

"Padawan Malak." Dorak's voice cut clearly across the floor, authoritative, yet not commanding. The two turned to watch him stride towards them.

"Master Dorak." Malak bowed slightly.

"Master Katarr has been asking for you," Dorak stood about eye to eye with Malak, "It would be best not to keep him waiting."

"Yes, Master," Malak bowed once more and began to depart.

Dorak cleared his thought, causing the padawan to stop and turn. "Are you going to wish your friend luck?"

"Uh," Malak looked to Revan, "Good luck."

A small smile crept across Revan's face. Maybe Dorak wouldn't be so bad, "Thank you Malak. May the Force be with you." Malak then gave a quick half-smile, spun on his heel and left the dock.

Master Dorak's attention then turned to Revan. Revan noticed that his Master was not carrying any luggage. "What possessions do you have need of for this journey?"

Revan looked away from his Master's penetrating gaze. "But, Master, you told me to pack…"

"I did," Dorak nodded, stern gaze unchanging, "However, never did I say we would be bringing your things with us. Hand them to XB-11." A Xandar Biotechnics service droid stalked up next to him. The very near human appearance of the droid caused him to jump a little. The skin was a very pale shade, and seemed rubbery in texture. Its somber features, bent arms, and extended legs were far too regular and symmetrical to be that of a real being, but the look of sadness upon its face still chilled him to the core. XB-11 grabbed his bag and walked stiffly from the dock.

"I'm assuming you have your lightsaber on you?" Revan nodded. "Good." Dorak stepped forward towards the _Ebon Hawk_ and Revan followed. As they approached, the boarding ramp lowered to grant them entrance. At the top of the ramp stood a lone figure, a woman. Having seen Shayla before, Revan assumed that this was Master Kae. As light flooded the entrance, Revan caught sight of her face.

She was beautiful. Her eyes were a pale blue that seemed to look into his very soul. Her skin had the slight and natural tan of someone who spends a good portion of their time outside. Shoulder length hair of the lightest brown framed her face. She didn't wear the traditional robes of a Jedi, but some kind of dark blue jump suit. The oil smudges and grime on it that signified Master Kae had, up until recently, been working on something in the ship only seemed to accentuate her beauty. Revan watched her black boots tap, once…twice…three times before realizing that she was waiting for him to enter so the ramp could be closed. He briskly walked the remaining few feet into the ship and took up a position next to his new master.

"Are you going to say hello?" Master Kae looked down at him as she slapped the panel that raised the boarding ramp, "Or shall I do it for you?"

"Of course not, Master Kae," Revan bowed, "I am Revan."

She nodded and looked up to Dorak and extended a hand. "Well, Revan…Do you have a last name?"

"No," his answer was almost immediate. Too quick. "I get that a lot…Master Kae." He tried to make it seem more casual.

"I'll bet you do," she acknowledged with a smile and turned to the other passenger, "And Master Dorak. Good to see you. Welcome aboard the _Ebon Hawk_." She extended a hand, which Dorak gladly took.

"Nice to see you as well. How long has it been?" he asked.

Master Kae brushed a stray strand of hair from her face. "At least four years. The last time I was on Dantooine was to choose an apprentice."

"Ah," Dorak nodded slightly, "I'm assuming Padawan Fram is in the cockpit, preparing the ship for departure?"

"Yep," Arren folded her arms again, "We'll be airborne in six or seven minutes. Now-"

The ship suddenly lurched upwards and the Jedi were all thrown different ways. Revan was the only one to end up on the deck. "Sorry," Shayla's voice echoed over the intercom, "I'm still getting used to the ship. Looks like we'll be leaving a bit early."

Revan stood slowly, rubbing a small bump on his head that began to grow. "Maybe you could warn us next time!" he yelled up to the cockpit.

"Oh!" she didn't bother using the intercom, "Do you want to come fly this thing?!?"

"As a matter of fact," Revan began to pick up his pace as he headed after her voice, "I think I might."


End file.
